Very Unsatisfactory Events
by QuincyMoxy
Summary: Sam needs demon blood. However, no demons have shown up for weeks. Now, with the craving nagging at him once more, he must resort to angel blood. But, you see, angel blood is an aphrodisiac. But what happens when Dean gets wise? Adultery, Language, Slash.
1. Warehouse

**A'ight. I haven't got much to say, except for: This is my first slash fic ***starts hyperventilating and faints into Sam's arms***. Yes, I'm a proud Sam girl. And Mulder girl, and Castiel girl, and Murphy girl (Boondock Saints), and... okay, that's good, isn't it?**

**Anywayzle. Let's begin.**

**Title: Very Unsatisfying Events**

**Summary: Sam calls Castiel to an abandoned warehouse after realizing that the thrice-damned craving for demon blood is back. Seeing as how the Winchesters haven't gotten a job in one-and-a-half weeks, Sam decided to try and see if angel blood would suffice. However, the celestial's veins prove to be filled with an aphrodisiac. **

**Characters: Sam Winchester, Castiel**

**Pairing: Sam W./Castiel**

**Rating: M (NC-17) for the following: adultery; adult situations; forced blood-drinking; language.**

* * *

Castiel appeared in the warehouse just as the watch on Sam's wrist ticked to single the coming of dusk. The angel surveyed the abandoned building, taking in the soiled floor, stained walls, and crashed boxes thrown about the room sporadically. Cas' blue eyes narrowed in thought, and a small piece of apprehension. He'd been slightly on edge ever since the phone call he'd recieved from Dean's phone not thirty seconds ago. The caller had not, in fact, been Dean, but rather Sam. The younger Winchester had demanded Castiel appear at the address he now stood in to meet them.

It was only then that Castiel realized that Sam had never been given the number of the thrice-cursed object lying in his trench coat's pocket. The cellular phone's memory was filled with calls from only one person: Dean. That being said, why had _Sam _called him from _Dean's _phone? Castiel could only think that it was because Dean was hurt, yet he'd heard no alarm in the younger Winchester's voice during the phone call. And he could sense no demonic presence in the warehouse, only a steady drip-drip from a leaking pipe somewhere above. Castiel looked around once more before a quiet footstep sounded from behind him.

He swiveled, looking Sam Winchester in the eye as the antichrist stepped towards him. Cas' eyes narrowed once more, wary of the seemingly animalistic hunger shining in Sam's pupils.

"Sam." Castiel greeted the young man, watching as he closed the distance even further. "Where's Dean?"

Sam didn't answer however, just kept advancing on the bewildered and slightly frightened angel. Castiel soon found himself taking steps back in order to avoid getting plowed by the bulldozer that had become Sam Winchester. At one point, when he was at least two feet from the wall behind him, Castiel just stood, rooting himself to the spot. He lifted his chin to give himself an air of confidence. It was only then that Sam stopped.

"Sam, I demand to know why you've called me here."

The younger Winchester seemed to tremble slightly, and then he spoke. "C-Cas..." His voice was small and fragile, seeming to crack as he continued. Swears felt out in wheezing breaths between the actual words. "I... I (fuck) need your (shit) help... God!" Sam doubled over with a shout of Castiel's father's name. He pressed his fingers to his temples, rubbing them vigorously before shooting back up and whipping his head around, sucking in deep breaths through his nostrils.

"Cas, Castiel... Pl-please, just don't judge me on my next actions. I ser-seriously need to do this." Sam's whimper following the outburst frightened Castiel and he began to inch back towards the wall. But he didn't make it the entire way. Sam suddenly careened towards him, picking him up by the lapels of the trench coat and pushing him back to the spoiled and rotting wall. Castiel suddenly found himself noticing how large Sam was. At 5' 11", Jimmy Novak was tiny compared to the hulking 6' 6" frame of the antichrist. _The Abomination_, a small voice nagged in Castiel's mind. He pushed it away, wanting nothing more than to fly off and leave the suddenly crazed younger Winchester.

Then Sam's face was only a meager half-foot from Castiel's face. The angel seemed to shrink back into the wall further.

"C-Cas... I... oh, God... I need your blood. Shit, I need your blood right, goddamn, now!" The request startled the angel. His eyes widened and he managed to stammer, "Sam... I... What?"

"I need your fucking angel blood Cas! I can't find a single fucking demon! I haven't been able to get to one for weeks! The craving is fucking back, Castiel!"

Sam's anger and impatience seemed to heighten as he screamed, hot breath blowing into Cas' cheeks. The angel began to notice his hands trembling. He moved to raise them, to push Sam out of his personal space. But before they could reach past his hipbones, Sam had grabbed them and pinned them to the wall behind him, one on each side of his head. "Sam," Castiel glowered, trying to keep calm, "I'm warning you. Get off of me. I cannot give you my blood. It would bring on... very unsatisfying events."

"Bullshit!" Sam screeched, pressing into Castiel's body. The two men were flush-against eachother now, chests, hips, thighs, pressing together in the heat of the moment. Sam let go of one of Castiel's hands to reach into his pocket and pull out a small swiss-army knife. He recaptured the angel's hand and trapped both into one of his huge palms. All the while, Cas tried devising plans, excuses, anything to stop Sam from drinking his blood. "Sam," he began weakly, "Please. I'm begging you. _Do not_ do this. Angel blood is very unlike demon blood. There is a... sensation that comes along with drinking it."

"Shut up, Cas." Sam pushed all three layers of Castiel's jackets and shirt down to the elbow and snapped open a small blade from the swiss-army knife. He placed the sharp point on Castiel's forearm, pausing for a moment to look up from underneath his bangs and into Castiel's begging blue eyes. He sighed. "Cas. I'll only take a little bit."

And with that, the knife sliced open the angel's arm.

Blood immediately surfaced shimmering into a ruby red color at the sensation of hitting air. Sam settled his mouth on the wound perfectly, his lips covering the inch-long cut and sucking at Castiel's skin. The blood sucked up into Sam's mouth, staining his tongue and falling down his throat. Sam moaned, revelled in the fact that he, Samuel Winchester, abomination, was drinking angel blood. The taste was somehow different than Ruby's blood. Or any demon's for that matter. It was slightly sugary, thinner, redder... lustier. Sam bit down on Castiel's arm, forcing more blood to the surface. He heard a slight whimper from Cas, and felt relieved that the angel hadn't started struggling yet. The blood... Oh God, the **blood**. It poured into Sam's mouth, sinking through cracks in his teeth and creeping through the nooks of his palate. Sam mustered out more needy moans, sounding more aroused with every breath.

Castiel gasped out after a particularly hard bite on his arms. He felt his knees began to weaken, the rush of blood loss exhausting him. He sank against the wall, murmuring "Sam..." while the younger Winchester guzzled blood out of him. To his surprise, Castiel could feel Sam's hand release both of his own, and his free arm snake around his back and help him stay standing. The other hand remained glued to Castiel's wrist, clenching and un-clenching every so often. The moans falling out of Sam's mouth crescendoed, and Castiel pretended not to notice the obvious arousal sticking into his thigh. Then, Sam stopped. He pulled away, blood stained mouth still open. The hunger seemed to have quelled from his eyes, but another, darkening sensation resided there. Sam grabbed Castiel again, and, forcing a yelp out of the angel, pressed his bloody lips to Cas'. The angel seemed to relax, but his lips remained taut, unmoving and uneducated.

Sam, ravaging Castiel's lips as he did so, trailed one hand down from the trench coat's lapel to the slightly bulged crotch of Cas' pants. He slid down the zipper, causing a metallic slither to echo through the warehouse, combined with sinful moans. He popped the button and let his hand slide through the slit in the boxers Castiel wore. His long, spidery fingers encircled Castiel's semi-hard member, pumping it and squeezing it perhaps slightly too hard for Castiel's taste. However, the assault worked, and Castiel found his virgin cock hardening in Sam's hand. The younger Winchester breathed a hefty moan into Cas' mouth, lips still locked. Castiel murmured something inaudible and then shouted, a reaction to Sam running his thumb through the slit at the head of Castiel's member.

"Come on Cas... Come." Sam's gently spoken command cut the thread. Castiel shouted again, come shooting out in bursts from his member. Sam grunted and quickly jerked himself off through the restricting fabric of his pants.

The two men collapsed onto the wall, both out of breath. Sam trailed his hand to Castiel's, and interlaced their fingers. Acting on impulse, he kissed the crown of the angel's head. Cas looked up at him with weary eyes, and broke into a faint smile.


	2. The Other Brother

**Yoz. So, I never really planned for this to be a multi-chapter, but after a loverly review from Nanoks (hope I spelled your name right!), I just had to keep writing. Oo! Oo! Idea just popped! Read for more to find out!**

**Title: Very Unsatisfactory Events**

Summary: **It's been three days since Sam drank Cas' blood. He, at first, thought it would be a one-night only, catch-it-or-miss-it oppurtunity, but it proves to be much more than that... Much, much more. See, Castiel has just GOT to confide in Dean about why he's become so much paler as of late. **

**Characters: Dean Winchester, Castiel**

**Pairing: Dean W./Castiel**

**Rating: M (NC-17) for the following: adultery; adult situations; language.**

Castiel popped into the motel room, staggered slightly and caught himself on the wall. It was getting to be the time that he was supposed to meet Sam. At times, he would meet him in the motel room, others in the warehouse. The younger Winchester was proving to be quite a trial, not to mention a setback. On Thursday, Castiel had first given (which is a questionable phrase, but...) Sam his blood to drink, and now it was beginning to happen on a daily basis. Each blood-drinking session lasted only about three minutes, including the activity following it. Sam had either become 1) corrupted by the angel blood, 2) attracted to Castiel or, 3) completely nuts. There was nothing new about the sexual activity; Sam finished drinking, would jerk off Cas and himself, then let the not-so-completely-virgin angel go. Truth be told, it was getting tiresome. But, back in futuretense, Castiel let his eyes roam around the room for Dean or Sam. He could hear the shower running in the bathroom, but he was unaware of which brother was in there.

Castiel sat down on the bed, half-listening to the springs creak. He rolled the left sleeve of his trench coat, suit jacket, and dress shirt up to reveal the three scars from his forced blood-letting. One was more prominent and vivid than the others, plastered obviously on the back of his wrist. The other two lay on his forearm, in random areas. The shower suddenly stopped running. Dean strolled out of the bathroom, towel draped loosely around his waist, whistling some mullet-head-rock tune.

"Jesus!" Dean threw himself against the wall, hand barely holding the towel in place at the sudden realization of Castiel sitting on the bed. Cas sighed and stated, "Dean, I've asked you not to use my brother's name in context."

"Yeah, yeah, OK Judas-"

"He was the betrayer-"

"I don't fucking care, Cas!"

Dean grabbed a handful of clothes and stomped back into the bathrom, grumbling under his breath something about "personal space" and "morons". He emerged a minute later, fully dressed and still grumbling. Centering himself in front of Castiel, Dean threw his hands up and stated, "OK, dude. What's up?"

"... Up, Dean?"

"_How are you_."

"Oh. Uhm, fine, I suppose."

"Fine, you suppose."

"Yes. That is a sufficient answer, is it not?"

Dean groaned and turned away from Cas, again grumbling. He turned back, hands resting on top of his head and pulling his shirt hem up, revealing his toned hips. "Cas, try relaxing for once."

Cas tilted his head to one side, looking up at Dean with inquisitive blue eyes. "I'm... unaware of how to proceed with that, Dean."

"Just, for the love of God, take off your trench coat and I'll help you from there."

Unsure, Cas stood and began pulling off the camel-colored trench and held it in front of him, as if he was shielding himself from Dean. The hunter grabbed the trench coat from the angel's grasp and hurled it onto the floor before stepping closer to Cas and reaching up to undo his tie. Instinctively, Castiel flinched away. Dean sighed.

"Dude, I'm not gonna hurt you."

It took a little bit of coaxing and a lot of forcing to get Castiel to let Dean undo the blue tie. The hunter stepped a bit closer, nearly toe-to-toe with Cas. He was aware of how the angel smelled like... vanilla? He smelled like the froo-froo shampoo that Sam used. Hesitantly, Dean leant in and awkwardly sniffed at Castiel's hair.

"Dean?"

"Dude... you smell like vanilla..."

Castiel turned his head, perhaps a bit too quick, to face Dean. His lips collided against Dean's ear and cheekbone, breath stirring into the tawny skin of the hunter and nose tickling against the stubble peppering Dean's jaw and cheeks. Dean froze, the bridge of his nose half-buried in Castiel's hair, his lips so close to the angel's own. He swallowed, trying to block out the oh-so-weird dreams he'd been having about Cas and himself as of late.

"Dean?" Castiel repeated, his breath tickling the whiskers near Dean's mouth. The hunter swallowed uncomfortably before speaking, "Uh, Cas. Would you mind if I did something impulsive?"

There was a hesitation in Castiel's reply, but the answer was still yes. So, to Hell with it, thought Dean. He'd be there sometime soon.

The angle was awkward, but Dean somehow managed to position his lips directly over Castiel's and collide the two pairs in a hesitant, but pleasant kiss. The two stayed in that pose for under ten seconds, and then Dean remembered that, clenched in his fist, looped around Cas' neck, was Jimmy Novak's tie. He threaded his fingers through the knot and gently pulled Castiel closer, hooking his other arm around the angel's waist. Castiel moaned at the touch and moved a step forward, causing the two to be flush against eachother. The angel brought both hands up to catch Dean's neck and hair while the hunter began to insistently poke his tongue at the loosely-closed crevice between Cas' lips.

The crevice parted, allowing Dean to slide his tongue into Castiel's mouth, exploring every nook and cranny. Cas' hands fisted in Dean's hair as he slowly began fucking Dean's tongue in between his lips, moaning along with the hunter in unison. A growing need settled in the nether-region of Dean, and he not-so-gently ripped the suit jacket off of Cas, followed by a hasty unbuttoning of the buttons on the dress shirt. He began goading Castiel backwards, while withdrawing his tongue from the angel's mouth and gently biting at the now-puffed lips, tearing a whimper from his angel.

It was not until Castiel was falling backwards onto the bed with Dean on top of him did the hunter release his instict for domination. He grabbed the angel's long-fingered hands and pinned them above Castiel's head, legs bent with his body hovering above Cas'. In complete arousal, Dean raised his mouth to the thumping drum in front of the angel's ear. He sucked on the temple, elliciting a sin-filled moan from the angel.

"Oh, God, Dean." The whispered moan was just enough to make Dean's dick quiver with anticipation, with longing. The hunter hastily pulled his shirt off, letting it drop onto the floor besides Castiel's forgotten clothing. He groaned as he noticed a rock-hard erection sticking into his own. Just for some good moaning, he lustfully thrust his hips at Castiel's own, pulling an arched back and loud, aroused whimpers from the angel. For good measure, he repeated the manuever and Castiel was cumming. An obvious wet stain appeared on the outside of Castiel's dress pants, and the angel collapsed back, heaving breaths falling out of reddened lips. Dean hastily rubbed his erection with a sweaty palm through the denim of his jeans, slightly peeved that this activity was over before he could even get inside Cas.

Once he'd followed Castiel's example, Dean rolled off of the angel, picking up Cas' left arm and gently kissing the pulse. Suddenly, his eyes caught ahold of the thin white scars. He withdrew, eyes fixated on the lines.

"Cas..."

The angel followed his line of vision and yelped, sitting upright and bolting off of the bed.

"Dean, I can explain those-"

"You'd better damn well be able to, Castiel," Dean growled, rising in return and advancing on the panicked angel. But before he was able to grab Cas, there was a fluttering of wings and he was gone, leaving behind the suit jacket, dress shirt, tie, and trench coat.

"IDIOT!" Dean roared.

**Hehehe, who do you think will claim Cas' ass-cherry first?**


End file.
